


Gallivant | Peter Hayes

by weasleycult



Series: Epoch [1]
Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, nice!peter, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-08-19 14:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16536215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weasleycult/pseuds/weasleycult
Summary: gallivant (v). wander aimlessly in search of pleasureAurora Lydes feels like she's been given a second chance at life. Or a third. Or a fourth. Too much is happening for her to comprehend, and all she wanted was to feel like she belonged. Pleasure is further out of reach than she could ever imagine, but it's so close to home.





	1. A Simple Word

I don’t squeeze back as hard when my mother hugs me this morning. Her arms are tight around me, her hold warm and welcome. She’s my home. 

When she pulls back, her smile is as bright as her eyes. She rubs my arm in a comforting way as my father enters the room. She cares for me.

My father leans down to hug me, then my mother, then my younger brother. He’s the perfect family man. He ruffles my hair when he passes and I hardly complain. He loves me. 

I know all these things to be true. I know my parents love me, my brother loves me, my friends love me. We care for each other. We are happy and we are loving and we are sometimes too close for comfort. But there’s no such thing here. We are one. 

To keep the community together, we must remain one. Even when we don’t want to. Because peace is more important than pride, as my father likes to say. Because nothing will ever go wrong as long as we have each other. 

So when my father asks me about the aptitude test, I smile and say that I’m excited. When my mother asks again, I smile and say that it’s just another day I have to fill with happiness. When my brother badgers me about it, I ruffle his hair and exclaim that I know just as much as he does. I do so with a smile on my face and a laugh always in the back of my throat. 

I do this for the greater good of the community. An unhappy girl is an unhappy environment and all I’ve ever wanted was for everyone to be comfortable. So I smile. I smile even though my stomach is turning and my hands are shaking. 

I take the aptitude test today. The test that determines where I belong, where I’m supposed to be for the rest of my life. I turned 16 mere months ago and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. 

It’s on my mind still as I make my way to school, surrounded by other people from my faction. The bright yellows and reds of their clothes seem to suffocate me, but I laugh nonetheless. 

A girl I grew up beside, Olive, is repeatedly slapping a larger boy’s hand. She insists that she’s creating a new game, and the bus is filled with our laughter and giggles as he finally pulls back. I recognize from his black and white clothes that he’s from Candor and can’t help but wonder where both of them will end up. 

When we finally reach the school, Olive and I hop off the bus with our hands intertwined. Even though the aptitude test is today, we’ll spend the morning in our classes, and Olive and I share our first class together: Faction History. 

“Are you nervous about the test?” Olive asks, leaning closer to me as a group of Dauntless teens make their way through the building. 

My eyes follow them absentmindedly, all the way up until they turn the corner until I finally decide to give Olive an answer. 

“You know tests always make me nervous,” I reply, laughing softly at my own words. She only grins in response, and I’m thankful my answer was enough to keep her at bay. “What about you?” 

Olive sighs dreamily, her arm swinging and gently moving my own as well. “A little. I’m mostly excited,” she confesses, squeezing my fingers tightly before continuing, “It could be the start of our new lives, don’t you think? Maybe Carter and I could fall in love in Candor,” she professes. 

“Not likely, apple-picker,” replies a tall Candor boy as he passes by. 

I have to stretch my neck to meet his eyes, and when I do the brightness and intensity of them almost makes me swallow my words. But I don’t have to, because Olive pulls me into our classroom before I can open my mouth. 

“Carter is the only Candor I can tolerate,” Olive whispers as we settle in our seats. Even as she does this, a smile is still spread across her dark cheeks, reaching her eyes. I don’t reply. 

I wonder why everyone in Amity seems so effortlessly...at ease. It makes my stomach turn.

Much to my dismay, the first half of the day passes by in a blur. Before I know it, I’m at lunch surrounded by other kids from Amity. Everyone is smiling, so I smile too. No one seems the slightest bit nervous. I sit out of the game because my hands are shaking too bad.

Before I know it, I hear my name being called by a lady from Abnegation. “From Amity: Olive Carrow and Aurora Lydes.” 

I don’t hear any of the other names being called. I pick myself up off the ground and my feet seem to walk in front of me, carrying me without me realizing. There’s no turning back now, no matter how badly I want to. 

When I enter the room, a middle-aged looking Abnegation woman greets me. She has a small smile on her face, her greying hair pulled back into the bun. The Abnegation have always intrigued me--I could never live a life so selflessly. Even though it feels like I have been. 

The room is covered in mirrors, and as I sit down I can’t help but glance into each of them. I can see myself from every angle and I hate it. All that stares back at me is a knotty-headed girl with eyes too big for her head. My face is dark red, contrasting greatly against the pale white my knuckles have turned.

Everything about me seems wrong. I distract myself by staring at the Abnegation lady’s outfit, a charcoal colored blending in with the room whereas the reds and yellows I’m adorned in suddenly feel much too tight. I distract myself with her face. 

She catches me staring almost immediately, and she offers me another smile. For some reason, it comforts me. “My name is Susan,” the woman says, pushing my shoulders back into the chair. 

Susan. An awfully plain name. I realize once again that I would never want to be in Abnegation, and I don’t know how my mother lasted as long as she did. 

The woman, Susan, is attaching wires to herself. And even more. I realize at this point that she’s also attached to me and wonder how I didn’t notice it was happening. 

Before I can process anymore, she hands me some type of clear liquid. I have no idea what’s going on, but when I scan for an escape route I realize there’s nothing else for me to do. I don’t have a choice.

So when she tells me to drink it, I do. I hardly have time to ask her what it is before my eyes are pulling themselves closed. 

I open my eyes after what seems like a lifetime. Susan doesn’t say a single word as she leaves the room. But she says far too many once she returns, so many that I can hardly comprehend what’s happening. 

Hardly. But I have to be on my toes. I have to think straight. So I believe what she tells me, even though I don’t want to. I leave school without saying a word to anyone from Amity, even though I don’t want to. I walk around for hours until I decide to go back home, even though I don’t want to. I don’t have a choice here. But very soon, I’ll have the biggest choice in my life. 

Divergent. The word rings in my ears as I enter my home, only to be met with a distraught mother. Nothing seems to be right.

“Are you okay?” She doesn’t care that I’m home late; I nearly always am. She cares that my face is bright red and stained with tears. I would care, too, if I didn’t already have so much to worry about. I must not upset her. Not any more than I already have to. 

I muster up the brightest smile I can, reaching for my mother to engulf her in a hug. I giggle quietly while I pull away, wiping the remnants of the tears on the bottom of my skirt. 

“I’m fine! It was cold today. I stayed outside, though,” I reply cheerily, pushing my hair behind my ears. I rock on my toes once she returns to cutting up fruit. Considering the number of lies I tell in a day, Candor could never be an option for me. But I already knew that. 

Candor and Abnegation. The only two factions they were able to eliminate in my test. It’s not normal, it’s not safe, and it certainly isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to have to make the choice myself. If I had to abandon my family, I wanted the test to be at fault. But this is all on me. 

I keep up my facade throughout dinner, all the way up until I go to bed. I know that I’ll probably be leaving my family in the morning, but it still doesn’t seem real. None of this seems real.

I still have no idea what I’m going to choose.


	2. Jump

I’m surrounded by bright yellows and bright reds. My father’s grip on my hand is firm and caring as we ride the elevator all the way up. My mother runs her fingers through my hair. 

The Choosing Ceremony is today. I have no idea what I’m going to choose, all I know is it won’t be Candor or Abnegation. I have no idea who I’ll be after this. I’m not sure if I want to. 

I know that I have never been enough to be Amity. Marcus Eaton’s words ring in my ears, and I think of my rash ways. I think of my aggression. I think of the times I nearly burst. 

I don’t belong. Amity is warm and they can’t afford a cold soul like mine to spoil their gardens. I don’t belong. 

I’m hardly registering the words he says now. All I can focus on is my family in the crowd, their content smiles trained on the speaker in front of them. They’re always so content. 

I have never wanted to be part of a unanimous vote. I am aggressive, and rash, and selfish. I am not peaceful. I am not Amity. 

Tears sting my eyes as names are called, one after the next. They are muffled, background noise to the heartbeat rising in my throat. I don’t know who I am. I don’t belong. 

I wonder what would happen if I ran, if I left the ceremony and joined the Factionless. The outcome doesn’t seem great, but it seems like my best option. I’m sure I could face them. 

But my feet stay planted to the ground. Not brave enough to stay, not brave enough to run. 

And then it hits me. 

“Aurora Lydes.” 

I don’t know who I am. But I know who I don’t want to be. I know who I want to be. I know who I’m willing to be, give everything to be, die to be. And that surely has to be enough.

The pain of the blade piercing my palm hardly affects me. All I can focus on is the bowls in front of me. Before I can back out, I push my hand forward, my lip between my teeth, biting down hard. My blood sizzles on the hot coals in front of me. There’s no turning back now. 

I can’t bring myself to look at the Amity as I make my way to the faction I have chosen for the rest of my life. My eyes hardly leave the floor as we wait for the ceremony to end. By the time it does, I’ve nearly swallowed my fear. 

There’s no time for fear now. I’m Dauntless. 

I repeat this to myself as we leave the ceremony, getting further and further away from the only family I have ever known. Away from the only home I have ever known. But it’s too late to turn back now, and a small part of me doesn’t really want to, even if I could. 

Before I know it, the Dauntless are running. I don’t know where they’re going or when they’ll stop, so I try my best to keep up. My short legs cause me to fall behind, but I ran a lot in the fields of Amity. I push through and keep running.

It feels nice; the wind whipping at my cheeks and my feet pounding against the concrete is refreshing in a strange way. It’s a warm welcome into my new life. 

Then I hear the unmistakable whistle of a train. Within seconds, it seems like, all of the Dauntless-born have jumped onto the train. It never slows down; it looks like it’s speeding up in my eyes. But I would rather have a broken leg than be factionless. And soon enough, there won’t be any train left for me to jump onto. 

I pick up speed, ignoring the burning in my legs, and jump. I struggle pulling myself into the train, but I don’t let go. I use what little strength I have left to yank myself inside, ignoring the pain in my elbow as I fling myself onto the floor. 

The rumbling of the train on the tracks comforts me. It lets me know that, as of now, I am worthy of being Dauntless. I haven’t failed or died yet, and I really don’t plan on it anytime soon. 

I keep my body on the ground, my head between my arms as I regulate my breathing. I hear more people jump in behind me, but I don’t bother seeing who it is. All I focus on is preparing my body for whatever comes next. I have a feeling that’s what I’ll have to do to survive in Dauntless. 

While I’m not the strongest girl, I know how to push through. I have a talent for persevering and I know I’m going to use that to my advantage. 

Working in the fields since I was able to walk gave me somewhat of a physical advantage over some other girls. My father wanted me to work hard. So I learned how to push through. Now, catching my breath on the floor of this train, I silently thank my father. I ignore the sting of betrayal that laces my gratitude. 

“What are you doing down there, banjo-strummer?” 

The voice, down to its condescending tone, seems very familiar. This sparks my interest, forcing me to leave my comfortable position on the floor. I stretch my neck, coming face to face with an unforgettable pair of green eyes; the same green eyes that nearly knocked the words out of my chest while they were scrutinizing Olive. 

I want to tell him that Olive joined Candor, that her and Carter will be so happy together. But I know that he doesn’t care, and quite frankly, I don’t either. So I roll my eyes and stretch my back, still preparing myself for whatever is going to come next. I know Candor boys, and they love pushing buttons. 

“Hey! It’s rude to ignore people,” he says, the mocking tone of his voice still prevalent. He shoves me at the end of the sentence, causing me to stumble over my own feet. 

I take a deep breath and turn to face him. However, I come face-to-face with his chest instead and the Amity in me returns like a long lost enemy. I don’t think this stupid Candor boy would ever hurt me, but he’s certainly big enough to do so. 

I square my shoulders and tilt my head back, meeting his eyes with what I hope is an intimidating glare. The traces of a smile are still noticeable on his face. He shoves me again, too hard for a stranger but not hard enough to hurt. 

There’s nothing for me to say. There’s really nothing for me to do. I keep my head tilted back, staring into his eyes. Something about them is so fascinating. In response, he raises an eyebrow at me. I know he has something else snarky to say. He doesn’t get the chance.

“They’re jumping off!”

I snap my head, turning my attention to the boy who just spoke. In the cars ahead of us, I see the Dauntless members jumping off the train and onto a rooftop. My stomach churns at the thought. 

I stumble back into the Candor boy, watching the Dauntless with wide eyes. I don’t think all of the preparation in the world could have prepared me for this. But like I said, it’s too late to turn back now. There’s nowhere else to go.

“We have to jump off too,” replies another Candor transfer from beside the tall boy. 

I push back the urge to roll my eyes and step forward, hoping to get away from their conversation. Of course we have to jump off, the only problem is actually doing it. 

“I’m not doing it.” 

I meet the eyes of the only other person from Amity. He looks familiar, but his name escapes me. His cheeks are covered with fresh tears, staining his brightly colored clothes.

There are some other transfers talking to him, trying to convince him to do it. I shift my attention elsewhere. Doing anything now would be a sign of weakness, a sign of the Amity ways I was raised. And that’s not who I am now. 

Besides, I don’t feel that bad for him—after all, the Amity kids watch the Dauntless all the time. It was foolish for him to pick. 

I wonder if it was foolish for me to do the same. I push back those worries in the same breath that I push myself forward, flying off of the train car and onto the rough gravel of the rooftop. 

I tumble before I fall, scraping my hand and my legs, but I ignore the slight burn and brush myself off. I don’t have time to be preoccupied with silly injuries when I have this rush of excitement pumping through my veins. Maybe I am fit for this.

“That was better than I thought,” I mumble to myself, pushing my loose curls behind my ears in an attempt to have a better view of the crowd in front of me. To my dismay, the Candor boy hardly looks scathed at all. He’s practically gleaming with joy.

I shove myself between the tall boy and another transfer that I didn’t notice on the train before. They’re both rather large, so they keep the sunlight out of my eyes and I can focus on picking pebbles out of my palm.

“Your little apple-picking friend didn’t make it back there. I’m sure you’re next.” 

“He wasn’t my friend, but you can say hi to him for me when you end up Factionless too.” 

Before he can say anything, a loud cry comes from behind me. I turn and see a Dauntless girl and a Dauntless boy at the edge of the roof, the boy holding the girl back. She’s the one crying. 

My urge to comfort her, or maybe my curiosity, one of them get the better of me. I’m at the edge of the roof before I can stop myself. I follow the girl’s vision and the sight sickens me. 

Laying on the ground is another Dauntless girl, her body looking unnaturally twisted. She’s dead. It’s obvious. A Dauntless-born, dead. And her friends don’t even have the time to mourn her. 

I back up and get as far away from the edge as possible. The sight made me sick to my stomach, and I feel dizzy. We’ve already lost two people and initiation hasn’t even officially begun. 

I know I’m not going to make it. Especially not now. I am weak. My body is weak. It’s occurred to me that I’m going to throw up. So I do. 

I pull my cardigan off, throw up as quietly as humanly possible, and leave it right there on the roof. The bright yellow of the cardigan fits it quite well. 

I have to pull myself together. Deaths in Dauntless seem inevitable, and that was someone I didn’t even know. I am Dauntless. I am unaffected. 

That cardigan, sitting on the roof filled with my vomit, is not who I am. It’s pathetic. And weak. I am strong. 

A shout comes from directly in front of me, startling me out of my thoughts. 

“Our initiates have the privilege of going first.” 

I look up to see an older Dauntless man standing on the edge of the roof and immediately back up into the crowd. I have no idea what I’ve missed but I know it’s important. 

“You want us to jump off a ledge?” 

An Erudite girl has all eyes on her, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. My stomach drops as realization sets in. Are we going to end up like that Dauntless girl? 

The thought haunts me. But I jump eventually.


End file.
